


Conditional Acceptance

by ForbiddenArcanum



Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Brain Drain - Freeform, Faustian Bargain, Jock Straps, Large Cock, M/M, Muscle Growth, This is some kinky stuff my dudes, Transformation, cock growth, himbofication, jockification, just a forewarning, light use of gay slurs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:34:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23283325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForbiddenArcanum/pseuds/ForbiddenArcanum
Summary: Danny and Desiree make a deal that is mutually beneficial on paper.
Relationships: Danny Fenton/Kwan (implied), Dash Baxter/Danny Fenton
Comments: 3
Kudos: 97





	1. The Usual Faustian Nonsense

The ghost world, Desiree decided, wasn’t a terribly active haunt. From time to time, she would see great cavalcades of spirits sprint from one door to another -- perhaps engaged in a turf war, or fleeing from something -- but on the whole, almost nothing affected her. It was funny. All her life, she had resented the queen that cast her out of a kingdom that was rightfully hers. In death, however, she found that even if she could make her greatest wishes appear from thin air, it wasn’t satisfying. Paradise felt empty when there was nobody to share it with.  
  
Danny, on the other hand, was about as far from paradise as he could get. It was his senior year, and college admissions were just over the horizon. He had been agonizing about it for months -- as had all of his other classmates. It was especially noticeable in Tucker, who refreshed his e-mail every five minutes, and Sam, whose leg had been bouncing restlessly for the last week.  
  
The football team was even worse. Dash and Kwan, despite their almost-certain chance at a football scholarship at Dartmouth, had been feeling the exact same anxiety as Danny and his friends. Instead of displaying anxious behavior, however, they had channeled it into destruction. Danny was finding himself stuffed in twice as many lockers as usual, getting pantsed every week, and swirlied at the top of every school day. He was only 18 -- handling this sort of stress was too much for him to bear all at once. He knew he couldn’t use his ghost powers, and no adults ever seemed to try and remedy the situation. Mr. Lancer would lead off with something about Walden and carving one’s own path -- and his parents were much too interested in their latest ghost-hunting project to pay him any mind.  
  
Of course, there was always Jazz -- but Danny would let the other half of himself die before he went to his sister for emotional help.  
  
Instead, Danny began to take vacations into the Ghost Zone. Disconnecting from Earth was like a breath of fresh air. Dangerous air, to be sure, but it wasn’t Dash, and it wasn’t like he couldn’t defend himself. Most of the residents knew to stay away from him, anyhow. It was this sort of privacy that he craved: the ‘nobody will find me’ hiding spots and ‘cry your heart out’ open air.  
  
Danny, unfortunately, picked one of the worst spots to engage in his breakdown. An enormous, polished palace fit for a sultan with not a resident in sight. Figuring he was alone, he slumped in the throne at the head of the table, letting out a few choked cries. Even alone, it was hard to truly let go.  
  
Desiree heard the soft cries of someone within her palace and immediately made way for the source. Anything would be more entertaining than another week of nothing. As she entered the room, she saw the halfa himself sitting on her throne, and her eyes nearly popped out of her head.  
  
“It wasn’t enough to send me back here, now you’re in my dining room as well?” Desiree folded her arms, scowling.  
  
“What?!” Danny nearly jumped out of his chair, quickly wiping his eyes. “No, I… this is your place? It’s awfully spacious for just you.”  
  
“And that’s just the way I like it, halfa.”  
  
“Danny. My name is Danny.” Danny sniffled, straightening his shoulders.  
  
“Well, either way, I would very much suggest you be on your… your…” Desiree sniffed the air, floating towards Danny and slowly curling around him. “Oh, now what is this?”  
  
“Hey, get offa me!” Danny immediately sidestepped through her tail, the ghostly trail disseminating with the slightest touch.  
  
“I feel… a desire? Oh, yes, quite so. And how deep-seated!”  
  
“No.” Danny tensed his core, trying to sound as firm as possible. “I’m not making any wishes. Like you said, I should be on my way.”  
  
“Oh, no, no, I never said that!” Desiree floated in front of him, blocking his way. “I only meant that you should be on your best behavior. Perhaps I’ll grant you a wish or two… if you ask nicely.”  
  
“I know how your powers work, Desiree. You get stronger every time you grant a wish. I beat you, what, twice? I’m not falling for it. No magic changes for me today, thank you.” Danny shook his head, making for the door.  
  
“Oh, so magic is the only thing stopping you from achieving your union with your one true desire? Halfa -- Danny -- listen… I may be a genie of sorts, but I am also an excellent life coach. You think people just wish for a million dollars and they’re fine for the rest of their lives? No, not at all! They hire financial advisors, invest, diversify!”  
  
“I don’t want your money.”  
  
“It’s an extended metaphor, my dear! I might not be of much use magic-wise to you, but I am frightfully bored here. So I would like to propose a deal. Tell me what’s on your mind, and maybe I can help you.”  
  
“...Well, if you’ll listen. Nobody else seems to.”  
  
Danny slumped back into the throne, Desiree lying seductively across the table, her tail flickering and swishing in the ghostly candlelight.  
  
“Well,” Danny began. “It’s… stressful. Really stressful.”  
  
“I hear it.”  
  
“No, you don’t understand -- everyone's losing their minds! Sam, Tucker… but most of all, the football team is on me, every second that they’re not in class. Sometimes even in class!”  
  
“Mmm, jealous?”  
  
“What? No, they’re idiots.”  
  
“No, no, I meant maybe they are, don’t you think? I mean, you seem like you have it all together. Ghost life, human life… Back when I was in the sultan’s harem, every girl wanted to be me! Including his wife… and now here I am. They’ll try to drag you down to their level, you know?”  
  
“Hardly. They have it more together than I do.”  
  
“Oh?”  
  
“Yeah, they’re…” Danny sighed, slumping further into his seat. “Dash and Kwan got e-mails the other day, saying they’re finalists for Dartmouth’s football program or something -- but the thing is that they’re finalists. It’s not a sure thing.”  
  
“But you know --”  
  
“-- That it’s a sure thing. Exactly. But even then… they like, don’t believe it.”  
  
“And so they take all that out on you, huh?” Desiree laughed softly.  
  
“Hey, it’s not funny.”  
  
“Pardon me, but you kicked me around the town like I was a sack of flour -- twice! Forgive me if envisioning you getting pushed around is a little funny.”  
  
“Yeah, whatever. So they’re just. Never gonna leave me alone until they get their answer.”  
  
“Well… why not just wish they got their decision letters?”  
  
“Maybe I don’t want them to get in,” Danny grumbled.  
  
“Oh, now there’s something. You want some sort of revenge -- now here’s where I can help. You know what would burn them even more than that?”  
  
“Than not getting in? Uh… I guess if they got rejected from everywhere?”  
  
“Think bigger, darling.” Desiree laughed -- almost a cackle -- as she sat up. “Rejected from everywhere… and someone else gets their football scholarship. Someone else achieves their dream, right in front of them! That’s the sort of pain that does THIS!” Desiree spread her arms wide, gesturing to her entire palace. “That’s the pain that drives you mad.”  
  
“That… doesn’t sound so bad.”  
  
“So -- let me go over our arrangement. I get to come out of the ghost world, accompanying you and finally getting some excitement in my afterlife. In return, I give you a no-magic, ghost-power-free, comprehensive guide on stealing this offer right out from under their bratty noses.”  
  
“Well… I guess, but I also don’t really want the offer.”  
  
“So you deny it. You send the e-mail back, ‘I don’t want to attend’, right in front of them. Think about it. Their faces! Their hopes! Dreams! Crushed.”  
  
“I…” Danny hesitated. Desiree had him go from slumping in his chair to sitting on the edge of his seat. He couldn’t imagine going through with it, even with the promise of no magic… but then again, he couldn’t imagine going one more day with his head being shoved into a toilet at the crack of dawn.  
  
“Do we have a deal?” Desiree extended her hand, smiling. It was malicious -- but not towards Danny. It was emanating a strange sort of misanthropy -- and for Danny, it almost felt like looking into a mirror.  
  
“Yeah,” Danny said, grabbing her hand and shaking it. “It’s a deal.”


	2. The Usual Faustian Resolution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danny attends the football team's recruitment event, expecting an awkward afternoon, but finds himself fitting right into the team.

“I may have used a small bit of magic,” Desiree confessed almost immediately after settling into Danny’s room. Danny scrunched his nose, reaching for the Fenton thermos. “Now, now, let’s not be hasty -- it was necessary!”  
  
“And what exactly does that mean?”  
  
“Well, if we’re going to steal their acceptance, you need to have submitted an application in the first place. So I did. All accurate information, except we are going to have you apply for their football scholarship. See? Just a little causal modification. It’s nothing to worry about.”  
  
“Well,” Danny sighed. “I guess it’s not technically a wish, and even if it was, it’s a heck of a small one. So I’ll let it slide. But no more of that, got it?” Desiree nodded politely.  
  
“Certainly. Now, let’s see. It says in your school e-mail --”  
  
“You went through my e-mail?!”  
  
“You left it open! Along with a… few other tabs.”  
  
“Oh, uh, wow. Jeeze. So what did the e-mail say?”  
  
“Well,” Desiree began, floating over to Danny’s closet and tossing shirts and jeans behind her. “It said they’re looking for a new recruit for the football team.”  
  
“It’s already February, though. But I guess they might be recruiting for next year…”  
  
“Exactly. So I’m going to need you to get changed into something tryout appropriate.” Desiree tossed a bundle of clothes at him, nearly knocking him over -- and sealing the deal by chucking two sneakers at his head, sending him crashing to the floor.  
  
“Hey, watch it!”  
  
“Sorry, force of habit. We’ve never met under kind circumstances, after all.”  
  
“Whatever. I’m gonna go change.” Danny stepped towards the bathroom, suddenly turning around. “And no peeking!”  
  
“You’re not really my type, darling, but alright.”  
  
Danny sighed, shutting and locking the bathroom door behind him. He shuffled out of his pajamas, sliding his pants and underwear onto the floor. As he peeled off his shirt, he caught sight of himself in the mirror.  
  
He felt weak. Weaker than he had in months. His usual lithe frame felt like it was made of glass and paper, easily handleable by the boys that were taller and stronger. He gently ran a hand up his bare stomach, to his chest -- no real muscle to be felt. He sighed, bending down to pick up one of the many clothes Desiree had picked out. He stopped short as he saw his nude cock, standing back up and examining the mirror once more. It was more a grower than a shower, and he knew that -- but it certainly didn’t stop Dash and his friends from commenting on it as often as they could.  
  
Cheeks burning green with envy, he snatched up the first of the items: a pair of sleek, white crew socks. Slipping them on over his feet, he noticed they fit a little loosely -- but it wasn’t as if Danny had ever worn them before. Like many of the unworn items in his closet, they were Christmas presents from over-eager relatives hoping to get him into sports. It didn’t work in the slightest, of course, but he kept them around anyways.  
  
He dipped down again, pulling out a bright blue jockstrap and gulping nervously. He had worn these once or twice for gym, and he’d never liked it. If he was going to steal a spot from Dash, however, he knew he had to dress the part. He slid them up his legs, gently tucking his junk into the pouch inside. He felt like he wasn’t wearing anything… but the view of his ass in the mirror did get him to smile a bit. He threw on a pair of loose, blue mesh shorts over the jockstrap, and then a white tank top with a single blue stripe across it.  
  
Only two things remained, the first being a white snapback with a flat, blue brim. Hats were almost never his style -- but he could appreciate the functionality of it. After all, if he was going to be running, it’d keep his hair out of his face and the sun out of his eyes.  
  
He turned his attention to the light blue sneakers, slipping them on and noting how snug they felt. Another overzealous gift -- but surprisingly just the right size. He tied his laces, and then stepped out into his room. Everything felt so loose and… oversized, save for the shoes.  
  
“I feel ridiculous.”  
  
“You’ll thank me later, Danny. Have you ever tried running in jeans?”  
  
“Have you?”  
  
“That’s not important. You’re going to be late, so get a move on. I’ll… be doing some background work in the meantime. You just stick to our plan, and you’ll be perfect in no time.”  
  
“Yeah,” Danny muttered. “Perfect.”

When Danny arrived at school, he was surprised to find that nobody came to give him his morning swirlie. Rather, it appeared as if every single jock was much too preoccupied with the tryouts later that day. As a matter of fact, as Danny went through the motions of his day-to-day life, it seemed like the jocks were getting much too preoccupied with it. Every time he saw Dash and Kwan in the hallway, they looked more and more perplexed and worried. Even when Dash caught Danny staring, he didn’t say anything, and simply turned back to his conversation.  
  
The day ended without so much as a single wedgie, and Danny felt the ominous air of the empty halls surround him as he walked to the football field.  
  
“Something is… not right,” he said to nobody in particular. He stepped outside, his hat protecting his eyes from the afternoon sun, and letting him see a gathering of red lettermans in the distance. As a matter of fact, it seemed to be only red lettermans.  
  
“Uh, hey, is… this where the football tryouts are?” Danny asked, knowing full well that it was.  
  
“Uh, yeah, it’s -- wait, Fenton?” Dash turned around, peering at the shrimpy boy that he hadn’t so much as touched today. “You want to try out for the team?”  
  
“Dash!” Kwan placed a hand on Dash’s shoulder. “Don’t… y’know!” Dash sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.  
  
“Alright, Fenton, I’m gonna level with you.”  
  
“Level… with me?”  
  
“Yeah, listen, okay? Just. Shut up for two seconds. Fuck.” Dash took a deep breath in. “We were gonna grab Wes, right? Turns out he broke his leg today. Then we thought -- oh, Johnson! Johnson would be perfect! He sprained his wrist in art class an hour ago. Something about oil pastels? I dunno. Then, we wanted Lars, but he suddenly came down with food poisoning…”  
  
The list went on, almost fifteen or twenty people, before Dash stopped.  
  
“And that is everyone we wanted on the team. And none of them are here for tryouts.”  
  
“None?!” Danny gasped.  
  
“That’s what I just said, fartface! God, c’mon, listen to me when I talk. I’m the QB. You’re gonna have to get used to it.”  
  
“Get used to… wait, so I’m on the team?”  
  
“Fenton, can you follow a conversation?”  
  
“I’m just--”  
  
“Yes! Yes, you’re on the fucking team, okay? You’re literally our last resort. The final banana. The only person who made it to tryouts today. Alright? So we’re gonna practice, and you’re gonna listen to what I have to say.”  
  
“Uh… Yeah! Yeah, that sounds… good!” Danny tried to fake a smile. Between his anxiety over what happened to every other athlete and his next two hours consisting of getting tackled by jocks, he couldn’t find the strength to grin… But something did feel right.  
  
“Good. And fuck, man, turn that thing around.” Dash grabbed Danny’s hat, turning it backwards, letting his black hair peek through the hole. “If you’re on this team, we have a rep to protect, got it? So you follow us, or we make you.” Dash pounded a hand against his fist.  
  
“Y-Yes, sir!”

The rest of Danny’s afternoon could be defined by one word: sore. He ran the length of the field countless times, practiced tackling for what felt like an eternity, and sweat more than he ever had. He felt exhausted. Becoming an expert at this… it felt like it would take years. There was no way this was going to work.  
  
“Good job out there, Fenton. You’re alright for a beginner. We’re gonna hit the showers, but uh, maybe… catch your breath.” Dash set a gatorade beside Danny before heading off with Kwan.  
  
“Do you think he’s gonna be okay?” Kwan glanced over his shoulder once they were out of earshot. “I mean, he seems like he’s really trying to take it seriously, and he won’t even be here next year, but pushing himself that hard…”  
  
“He’ll be fine. He survived four years with us, right?” Dash laughed, fistbumping his teammate. “But I do wish there was some way to help him bulk up. He’s so skinny, the wind could blow him over. Short enough to be stepped on. All that stuff is really hurting his synergy with the team.” Dash shrugged, pushing the door to the locker room open. “Whatever. Not like it could really happen. Besides, if he’s small, we can still give him a swirly every day until he graduates.”  
  
Desiree slowly faded through the wall of the school as the jocks headed inside, her grin illuminated by the setting sun.  
  
“Do my ears deceive me? I do believe I’ve heard a wish… and so it shall be -- completely outside of our own arrangement. It’s almost too easy.” Desiree snickered, waving her hand. The gatorade at Danny’s side changed from blue to bright green, unnoticed by newly christened jock.  
  
Danny grabbed the bottle, unscrewing the cap and taking a deep breath in before drinking -- no, chugging half the bottle in one go. He finally lowered it, panting.  
  
“Oh, God… I feel like my lungs are… on fire…” Danny clutched his chest, standing up. He felt awful, but sitting around made it feel worse. Slowly, he lumbered towards the locker rooms, holding his head. The world was spinning. He felt along the wall of the school, grasping for a door handle -- and flung the door open, immediately throwing himself on the bench in the middle of the lockers.  
  
It was… strangely quiet. He could hear the other boys, but he couldn’t see them -- as if they were a room over. Was this the girl’s locker room? Fuck it. Whatever. He needed a place to recover that wasn’t public. His chest was heaving, his face was sweaty, and his tank was soaked.  
  
“Just… just need a drink.” Danny moved to unscrew the bottle, but dropped it as a pain surged through his arm. “Ah, fuck, cramps!”  
  
He held onto his bicep, massaging it as it tensed and flexed painfully… and appeared to grow under his grip. The growth surged along his arm, his forearm suddenly sleeker and hairless, tanned to perfection.  
  
“What’s… no, wait, I… I said no magic. Maybe I’m hallucinating?” Danny choked on his words as his tank top suddenly felt skin-tight on his left side. Looking down, he was shocked to see his pec twitching and swelling, expanding outwards from a pale swatch of skin to a gigantic, flat, and thick piece of meat. It slowly darkened, as if tanning from hours of time in the sun -- hours of football practice, perhaps -- but Danny knew that couldn’t have been the case. At least… he was pretty sure it wasn’t.  
  
He didn’t have much more time to think as the changes surged across his chest. His right pec quickly caught up to his left, and his neck thickened with muscle. Tan swept over his other arm, and slowly trickled down onto his stomach, where his comparatively small torso suddenly -- and painfully -- came in, two abs at a time. Each one felt like a stomachache, the next worse than the one before it. At cramp one, it was a yelp -- at two, it was a groan of pain. Three was a warbled cry of hurt, and fourth and finally was a scream, followed by panting.  
  
“Urgh… I’ve… I’ve gotta… no…” Danny tried to stand up, but fell right back down, his legs on either side of the bench as he felt an immense cramp form in his thighs. The mesh shorts, once so loose and airy, were suddenly snug against his legs… then tight, then nearly tearing with the slightest twitch. His legs were becoming immense tree trunks of stability and power, and the muscle tapered off for only a moment before his calves exploded outwards, thick ball-like muscles leading into his bright blue sneakers, a sleek tan riding down their curves and edges as his feet began to twitch and cramp.  
  
The shoes were strained--but as his feet lengthened and widened, he was surprised to find the interior only became more cushy and soft… and the exterior stayed perfectly stitched and vibrant.  
  
Finally, it seemed like the changes had stopped. His body, for lack of a better word, felt odd, almost foreign. It was so much bigger and heftier than before -- and so unwieldy when it came to moving. As he stood up, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. His face and hair were largely unaffected, thankfully, but his body looked like a shortstack. So much muscle on such a tiny body was… well, a little ridiculous looking. He took a deep breath, trying to weigh his options.  
  
“Okay… alright, this… isn’t the first time you’ve gone through some changes. Maybe this is some new ghost power or something. I’ll just… have a drink, calm down, and figure it out in a while.”  
  
Danny put a hand to his head -- a much bigger, tanner hand than before -- and wobbled over to the corner, picking up his drink. He felt like he was taking his first steps again, especially with how much his enormous, thick thighs were rubbing together. Gingerly, he uncapped the bottle and lifted it to his lips, taking an enormous swig. His body, it seemed, was now much more in need of nutrition and hydration than before. He finished the bottle in seconds, tossing it into the recycling bin and re-examining himself in the mirror.  
  
He ran a thick hand over his jawline, moving his comparatively tiny head. His snapback stayed snug as ever throughout his transformation, and was now even sweatier. He adjusted it with care, not knowing how strong he was now -- and as he did so, he felt a tingle all over his scalp. Quickly lifting the snapback off of his head, he saw his hair… moving! Moving, on its own! It left its usual, unkempt and messy style, slowly straightening out and moving to crest over his head, like a short quiff or pompadour. As it did, he saw the tan rise from his neck and slowly creep onto his face.  
  
“N-No, no, wait, shit!” Danny slammed the cap back onto his head, the snapback rising slightly from the new, fluffy texture of his slicked-back hair. His jaw cracked and creaked as it thickened out into a more square shape, and his features settled in a more intimidating and masculine position. Thick, strong eyebrows were followed by steely blue eyes. A pair of scowling lips now hid a set of perfect white teeth.  
  
Suddenly, Danny felt like his entire body shifted upwards -- and he found that his tank top was now just barely cresting the waist of his shorts. His spine had suddenly shot up, and he was a hearty 6 and a half feet! As his height grew, he felt the cracks in his spine suddenly transition to the front of his body… and he felt a strong heat from his mesh shorts as his cock suddenly slipped out. It was at full mast, but still puny compared to the rest of him. A small bead of precum formed on the top, and as Danny moved to wipe it away, he was overcome with an immense wave of pleasure. He dropped to his knees helplessly as his cock flexed and surged like a bodybuilder’s bicep, swelling larger and larger with each and every throb.  
  
“Ohhh… Oh my God, oh fuck, fuck, fuuuck!” Danny couldn’t stop himself, attempting to grab his shaft as it rocketed past six inches with ease. Then a foot. It wouldn’t stop growing with every touch, and with every spurt of growth was a spurt of precum. The clear, sticky fluid splashed onto the floor, flowing down one of the many drains -- but it wouldn’t be able to keep up much longer. Danny pumped and stroked his cock as he sprayed shot after shot of precum. The liquid slowly transitioned from clear and thin to a thick, white cumshot with every pump. Everything felt amazing. His body, his hair, his cock, god, his fucking cock! He could do this all day. He could stay at home for four years and stroke every day of school and never graduate and he’d be completely fine with it.  
  
Even the thought of it made his shaft surge forwards, his balls filling and hanging to his knees. His foreskin slid over his growing head again and again, drawing him ever closer to orgasm -- something that, although Danny couldn’t articulate, he knew he needed.  
  
With a final slam of his hand to his base, his foreskin pulled back and his cockhead glistening with cum, he felt his balls tense. His shaft flexed, and then relaxed, shooting a thick rope of cum against a bathroom stall door, knocking it open. It flexed again, shooting another shot so huge that it flooded the toilet instantly… then another, then another, and it went on for minutes or hours or days -- he couldn’t tell. He was completely lost in orgasmic bliss, his mind a cloudy haze.  
  
When the smoke cleared and his vision refocused, Danny struggled to his feet. His cock dripped with cum, and as he stuffed it back into his jock, he found his underwear immediately drenched with more precum. He tugged his mesh shorts over his bulge, the enormous package hanging to his knees… no mistaking it, no hiding it. He shook his hands off and straightened the straps of his tank top before looking at the damage.  
  
The bathroom stall was utterly destroyed. The door was off of its hinges, the porcelain was shattered, and the bowl was flooded with his cum. All the extra was painted onto the walls and ceiling, and any that didn’t cover the room was slowly joining into a puddle over the drain. It had clogged a long time ago, unfortunately, and half the locker room floor was Danny’s seed.  
  
“I…” Danny cleared his throat, suddenly finding it much gruffer and manlier. Perfect to match his new two-foot long cock. “I need to get back to the locker room. They’re wondering where I am, probably. I… I can fix it. I can fix it later.” Danny tried his best to lie to himself. Fixing things was for when something felt wrong, or unnatural. But this… this was new. Exciting.  
  
He nearly kicked down the door to the locker room, his heart racing as he saw every member of the team suddenly turn towards him. He was bigger than them now. Stronger. Faster. Dash backed away, clearly frightened.  
  
“Fenton?! Aw jeeze, is this another ghost attack?!”  
  
“Nooo, Dash, it’s fine. Just listen to me.” Danny’s voice boomed through the locker room, rattling everyone who heard it -- but none so much as Dash. His blue eyes glowed softly as Danny locked him into a stare. “That QB position is mine now, Baxter, you got it?”  
  
“Y-You… you can’t just come in here like that! I’m the QB and this is your first goddamn session! I don’t care if you’re eight feet tall, you don’t know anything about the game! You wish you knew as much as I did!”  
  
“Oh, really? Lemme prove you wrong real quick.” Danny slammed a thick hand onto Dash’s head, and flexed his palm against the jock’s forehead. Like a dam bursting, his mind was suddenly filled to the brim with every one of Casper High’s games, everyone’s roles and numbers, and the enormous amount of touchdowns that Dash had scored… and that he now had no memory of.  
  
“Twenty six. That’s the total number of touchdowns this team has made over their season. You scored most of them, Kwan following up in second, and--”  
  
“Of course I know that, Fenturd! Everyone does!”  
  
“Then let’s have a little bet. If you can answer one super easy question, I’ll let you be QB. If you can’t, it’s my turn.”  
  
“...Alright, fine. But it better be easy, or no deal.”  
  
“Done. What’s your team number, Dash?”  
  
“My… my number?” Dash squinted, suddenly unable to think of the jersey he’d been wearing the entire time he’d been on the team.”It’s… it’s… twenty six?”  
  
“Oooh, wrong -- and I think we can all agree that was very easy, wasn’t it? So that makes me QB now. And that means you listen to me.” Danny’s voiced boomed again, and Dash dropped to his knees, clutching his head. “Don’t worry about getting that wrong. You’ll have a lot less to worry about with me in charge.” Danny placed his palm against Dash’s head again, flexing and slowly robbing him of nearly everything else. Every Monday morning swirlie, every kiss from the cheerleaders, every inside joke with Kwan -- all of it, draining right into Danny. Danny, whose initial quest for revenge had turned into some sick power trip, felt the cruelty and anger flow into him with it. He felt nothing but rage and pity for the poor boy in front of him -- and he would channel it, just as they had, into destruction. Destruction of Dash’s prime image, and a building of his own.  
  
When he removed his hand, Dash was a half-minded husk of his former self, his usually cold eyes suddenly looking up with fear and a need for comfort. Danny simply smirked, whipping his tanned cock out, and smacked Dash in the face with it.  
  
“Suck it, you fucking faggot bitch. And everyone watch him. This is how you take control of someone questioning the team!”  
  
He grabbed Dash’s hair, using his enormous fingers to pull the jock’s body forward, making him take the entire tanned snake into his throat, all the way to the base. When he let go, Dash’s hair remained pulled up in the front, like a messy quiff. Beginning to buck his hips, Danny reached over Dash and began massaging his asscheeks, spreading them so everyone could see his bare hole.  
  
“That’s a hole that needs to be filled. That’s the kind of slut faggot we take care of on this team, got it?” Danny thrust forward harshly, and Dash felt his entire pec shelf suddenly travel down his body in a wave, leaving only a small set of chest muscles behind. Instead, most of his mass suddenly deposited itself into his hips and ass, forming an enormous, jiggly set of cheeks.  
  
“That’s right. This is what you are now, Dash. You’re mine.” Danny grinned wide as he pulled out of Dash, grabbing the would-be jock’s cheeks with one hand, reshaping his face effortlessly. Strong cheekbones, a pair of thick dick-sucking lips, and a soft jawline to pair with his new, bigger eyes.  
  
“I’m… You’re… I’m not…”  
  
“Shut up, Dash.” Danny flicked Dash’s head with a finger, and the blonde jock’s eyes crossed, his body shuddering. Something… important had left him, but he didn’t know what. More importantly, he didn’t feel the need to know.  
  
“Okay, Danny. Oops! I talked again…” Dash’s voice was pitched higher, more airy… clueless and vapid. Completely empty. “Sorry…”  
  
“That’s right. Shut up. Shut up and do whatever I say. And GET! SUCKING!”  
  
As Danny slammed his cock back into his new himbo slut’s mouth, he could only think about one thing:  
  
God, it felt good to be on top.

The March exhibition game went off without a hitch. Dash had fumbled everything during practice with his new body -- and quickly found his way to the trusty position of waterboy. With Danny as QB, however, Casper High was beating teams left and right. With every day that passed, he seemed to be bigger. Stronger. Douchier. Sam and Tucker stopped trying to reconnect with him after the first week -- it was obvious it wasn’t a ghost problem after a while, and there was only so much abuse they could handle from his new foul mouth. Now, Danny and his new friends walked off the field in a huddled group, celebrating yet another victory. Danny scarcely had a moment before he was signalled over to the stands by the coach, who was standing next to a rather well-dressed man.  
  
“What’s up, bruh? You know I’m tryin’a party with my dudes!”  
  
“Danny, this is a representative from Dartmouth. He saw your performance today, and he would like to formally offer you acceptance based on your excellent plays. Normally this thing is done on paper, but he felt you were so astounding that he couldn’t help himself… and he’s also a big fan.”  
  
The representative smiled and handed Danny a green jacket -- a letterman with his last name across the back in bright white letters. He dropped his Casper High jacket onto the ground, not even caring for it anymore -- and slipped on the letterman.  
  
“Let’s fuckin’ do it, dude. Catch ya later.” Danny winked at both of them, laughing and jogging back to the team. “I got into Dartmouth, bros! Kwan, Kwan, you fuckin’ hear, babe?!”  
  
The two watched as Danny cheered and celebrated with his team -- kissing Kwan roughly before pulling the wide-hipped Dash in for a noogie… and a kiss as well. Dash looked plenty happy, although vacant -- and the sight made the coach shake his head.  
  
“He was such a star player, but… Danny did something extraordinary. Took him down a peg… and y’know what?”  
  
“What?”  
  
“I think he likes it. I think he knows that’s right where he belongs.”


End file.
